


WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF

by Trekgloria



Category: Poldark (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-15 11:02:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13611987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trekgloria/pseuds/Trekgloria
Summary: A little exploration of Ross, his capture and memories of Elizabeth that sustained him while a POW.  An imagination of what might have happened.  I have always found the fascination of Ross with Elizabeth one that made me want to know why.  Not sure anyone ever understands someone else's love for another, but wanted to explore that happened to Ross during the war and how his memory of Elizabeth and determination to return home, to her might have shaped his imagination and ultimately his dedication.Have added a few extra chapters, maybe one more to add.





	1. Chapter 1

WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF

With each beat of his heart, the pain radiated across his brain and throughout his whole body, an agony never before experienced wracked him. Ross needed to vomit and rolled on his side, heaving. This headache was the worse he'd ever experienced, even the night he'd found a keg of a very potent gin washed up on the beach and drank it with Jud. He'd suffered for days, the pain preventing him from sitting or standing that first day, and the vomiting continued for several more. That was his first taste of spirits, at twelve; his young body was unable to handle so much liquor. The memory of that drink still haunted him, even now that smell of gin or juniper berries made Ross feel as if he would retch.  
Jud had to carry him home to his mother. Grace was angry, at first at Jud, but later as he recovered, Ross experienced his mother's displeasure in what she set for him as punishment, a number of tasks; mucking out the pig sty and rebuilding it, then spreading the manure on her garden, the newest one she made him till several times, then whitewashing the inside of the dairy, the laundry, and even the goat shed. The added chores took over a month to finish. When Ross challenged her authority by going to his father, Joshua laughed and said he'd sooner go against the Archbishop of Canterbury, the king, and his mistress combined than overrule Grace on this.  
But this pain was worse, his face felt as it was on fire, his head as if it would explode. The throbbing was so intense just opening his eyes made him vomit, as did any movement. The agony increased until he passed out. Later he woke again, how long he was unconscious, Ross could not tell. Slowly he was able to open his eyes, but his vision was blurry, everything had a shadow and swayed if he moved his head but a little. Gradually Ross realized it was going evening, filtered light came through the trees, but night was descending. At least he hoped the looming darkness was due to evening falling, otherwise he was going blind. Trying to move was still an agony, but Ross pushed himself till he managed to sit up and look around. The enemy regiment was already setting up within the camp, and his musket, with all of the others were piled and guarded across the camp.  
Upon seeing Ross rouse, an officer in the Continental Army came, asked his name and rank. Ross could see his fellow soldiers scattered around the camp, most lying prone on the ground where they fell, a couple sitting propped against trees, but no one was moving. Most of his comrades were dead, obviously dead, bodies splayed in odd poses with gaping wounds. An attack at such close quarters ensured any bullet did utmost damage to the body. Ross tried to stand, but was unable to, instead he crawled to the nearest body, his Captain, to discover he was dead. That action made him vomit again. Rolling onto his back, Ross forced himself to look up at the canopy of trees and focus his eyes. Slowly Ross was able to bring his vision back to something closer to normal.  
Determined to master this pain, Ross pushed himself up gradually and was able to stand, but this action sent the world spinning and again he vomited, though by now far less came up. Staggering to the nearest tree, Ross placed his back against the trunk, took a deep breath and called out to the enemy solider and asked what the status of his regiment was. His voice sounded hoarse and he realized how parched his mouth felt. The solider informed him, captured; a prisoner of war, and only he and four others had survived. Theirs had been a small group ahead of the main company doing reconnaissance and now five men dead. Most of the enemy was too busy tending to their own wounded to pay attention to the captured and obviously incapacitated prisoners.  
Ross heard moans coming from various men in the camp, an indication of the living and their injuries. His surviving men needed to be seen to and the enemy wasn’t interested in their needs. Standing, Ross staggered to the nearest man, it was Morris, a boy really, he'd volunteered, but lied about his age, he was little more than just turned sixteen. The musket ball had hit had hit the bone shattering it, just above the shin, and had left the leg oddly twisted, and as such probably beyond repair. The blood flow needed to be staunched. Pulling off his own belt, Ross created a tourniquet, but had little hope this would save the boy, certainly not the leg. A surgeon was needed for this injury.  
Ross moved to the next man lying on the ground. This was Jones, an older veteran of several campaigns. He was lying on his back with a large open hole in his abdomen. Ross had seen other bullets hit their target at close quarters, leaving a massive wound from the musket ball. Moaning in pain, Ross was sure even a surgeon would not be able to save him. Pulling off his cravat, Ross stuffed it into the wound to staunch the blood flow.  
Finally Ross made his way to another man, Adams sitting against a tree. Checking, Ross saw a bloody sleeve, but the blood had already ceased to flow, it was a minor injury. Taking the sash off the solider, he bound the wound. Looking around Ross saw another man, Abbott and moved towards him. Though wounded, he was more dazed than suffering from any major harm. Calling his men to follow him, they returned to Morris. Ross checked to ensure no other injury afflicted him. There was nothing Ross knew to do but loosen the tourniquet at intervals. Should no surgeon arrive, Ross might have to determine if he should remove the mangled leg. Not a decision he wanted to make; but it was let the man die as surely he would from this level of injury and resulting infection or leave the man heinously mutilated as a cripple. Then Ross returned to Jones, though breathing, he was still unconscious, a blessing he thought. There was little Ross could do for him.  
Ross, took his flask of brandy and offered Adams a swig, then passed it to Abbott. Finally taking a large swallow, Ross realized he was in charge; he held the highest rank and the men were his responsibility. Giving instructions to Abbott; he was to find water, spirits, any food, then prepare something for them to eat. To Adams, Ross assigned the task of finding any material that could be used for treating wounds. Ross went to each of the dead, wrote the name of each man, rank, wounds, location, date of death, collected and identified personal items of the fallen men. When this would be sent to a British command, Ross was unsure, but family and the war board would need to know what happened here this day.  
As he finished, Ross sat against a tree and looked at the carnage. So many dead, who just hours ago had been alive going about what passed for a normal routine while waiting for a skirmish. Himself, gambling, recalling the soldier, Preston who now was dead, hit from behind, his blood spattered across the cards and onto Ross. Remembering Preston laughing at his refusal to gamble the ring, her ring resonated in his mind. Ross froze, the memory overtook him, not of Preston his fellow soldier and their training together or even of the man just before he died, but memories of her, Elizabeth came flooding back. For a moment, Ross was no longer injured and on the battlefield, a prisoner of war, thousands of miles from home.  
Remembering that first sight of Elizabeth erased the feelings of pain, fear, and defeat he was submerged in. Ross had first seen her walking; no rather she seemed to float, so light was she as she moved along the pavement in Truro. At first he thought she was an angel, he had never seen such beauty. Crossing the muddy road, Ross was drawn to her as a moth to the flame. Seeking to approach her, she entered a milliner's shop before he could reach her. Hovering outside the open door, but unable to see her, Ross listened, but only the sharp voices of two older women came to him. And then, she appeared at the door and stepped out, only inches separated them. She gazed into his face, a slight smile curled on her lips, before dropping her eyes and blushing. Ross was transfixed. The smell of her fragrance wafted on the gentle breeze and assailed his nostrils. She was wearing a perfume of roses; it reminded him of his mother's garden. Ross could only stare at her, then a sharp voice called; "Elizabeth, where are you?" With that command she went back into the shop.  
Waiting for what seemed hours to see her come out again, Ross repeated her name; "Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth."  
When she came through the door again, she was carrying several parcels and passing him she brushed his arm with hers. With her, a woman, obviously her mother, as he heard her soft and gentle voice; "Yes Ma Ma, they are very beautiful." And with that, mother and daughter crossed the street to a waiting phaeton. Ross watched as the older woman climbed in, then saw Elizabeth turn and look at him briefly before stepping up on the wrung and getting in beside the woman. As the carriage proceeded down the street, Ross followed for a few minutes watching, wanting her to turn and look at him again. But the phateton turned a corner and he could no longer see her.  
Determined to discover who she was, Ross returned to the milliner's shop and went in. The woman behind the counter rarely had lone men enter, but asked if she could assist him. He looked about for a minute, then pointed at one of the bonnets and asked if these were the current fashion.  
The woman removed it from the stand and said; “Yes, quite popular, the current style being worn in London. All the young ladies want one, but they are dear and few can afford such luxury.”  
Ross then pretended to examine the array of ribbons and other notions.  
The woman continued to speak; “I almost sold one to Mistress Chynoweth, but her Ma Ma said it covered her hair and blocked her face.”  
Ross had her name, Elizabeth Chynoweth. He had a vague memory of the family and their property. An ancient family in the district, further inland, they lacked any working mines; their fortunes had been declining for years with only their fields to bring in any money now. Ross turned and left quickly, going to the stable for his horse. Saddled, he mounted and headed along the road toward Swale as this was the direction her carriage had gone. A mile outside of town, he caught up with them and pulled up alongside.  
"Good day ladies." He offered. The mother looked at him, but replied: "Good day sir. Are we acquainted?"  
"Perhaps you know my father, Mr. Poldark." Ross answered.  
"Of course, we haven't visited for some time, but we have dined with your father Charles and his wife while she lived. Are you Francis?" the mother responded.  
"Charles is my uncle, my father is Joshua." Ross responded and for the first time realized Joshua as a father might be a hindrance instead of a benefactor. While a member of the gentry, Joshua lived very close to law, not as one who respected it, but one who thumbed his nose at it. Most knew of his ability to move goods without paying the king’s tax and his reputation as a rake was legendary in the community.  
Her mother apparently saw Joshua Poldark as one's father also a hindrance, and dismissively said, "Oh yes, his wife, your mother died some years ago." And with that curt reply looked away.  
"Yes mam." Suddenly Ross was unsure how to continue a polite discussion. Throughout his conversation with the elder woman, Elizabeth had sat quietly, eyes downcast. Yet, he noticed she slyly glanced towards him when her mother was speaking. As the woman effectively ended the conversation with her words about his mother, he saw Elizabeth frown. Was she responding in kind with her mother or displeased with the tone the woman had used he wondered. Tipping his hat, Ross wheeled the horse around and galloped across the moor.  
That night and for many after, Elizabeth was a presence that stalked his mind like the fabled Lady of the Lake rising from the depths of Dozmary Pool, offering a prize beyond compare. She was a fairy queen ruling over the land, and he, like the wizard Merlin of old, was unable to resist this sorceress. Her beauty astounded him, the lilt of her voice intrigued him, and the way she had gazed into his eyes captivated him. Ross realized he was completely in love with this creature. Was she Helen reborn and he Paris? What had seemed a story for the women; suddenly Ross understood love, passion, and desire that men would start wars and kill for the woman they so craved. Everything he wanted or needed all culminated within this girl. The memory of his first vision of Elizabeth remained pristine, lovely, perfection incarnate. After this pain, the loss of men, and this capture, Ross returned to his reminiscences of Elizabeth repeatedly.  
Strengthened by that memory of Elizabeth, Ross realized as he held the only rank of the men remaining, he must assume the responsibility for them. Ross rose and sought the captain of the enemy to establish what was to happen next. They would overnight in this camp, bury the dead in the morning, and the Captain trusted there wouldn't be any attempt to escape. Ross gave him an officers promise and assured him, he would remain with his men, none were in any shape to try and flee their captors.  
Returning to his men, Ross took a long drink, and saw that Abbott had a stew going. Taking some of the liquid, Ross took it to Morris and fed him. Asking Morris if he was ready to remove the leg, Ross gave him the brandy and told him to drink as much as he could, then he removed the tourniquet, took a sword, poured brandy over the blade, gave the boy a stick to bite on, and had Abbott and Adams hold his shoulders to the ground. In one quick slice, Ross separated the leg just below the knee. Morris screamed and passed out. Ross, reapplied the tourniquet and bound the stump. Providence would decide if the boy lived or died. Ross knew well few could survive the shock, and possible gangrene after. But this was all he knew to do. Ross had seen a surgeon take a leg off with a saw, but he had neither such tool nor knowledge, only his sword which was sharp and required only one swift blow to completely severe it.  
During the night, without ever regaining consciousness, Jones died from his wound. In the morning, Ross and the men dug a trench for their comrades, barely deep enough to cover the bodies. Burying each man, though with any useful items taken to be used by the living. War did not bring out the best in people. Simple survival and pragmatic decisions ruled the day.  
Ross constructed a litter for carrying Morris as they began the march back to the Continental Army Camp some 15 miles downriver. The journey was through an ancient forest, trees reaching high in the sky, often blocking most of the sun's light. This landscape was alien to Ross. The open Moors, better suited his desires. You could see for miles, long expanses to take the horse for a gallop, you could see danger ahead. But this country was full of unknown perils. While the land was rich and fertile once cleared of the miles of forest, and could produce food with little investment, this was not a future Ross imagined for himself. In England the officers had recognized the seduction of this seemingly bountiful land and the danger of desertion and preached against it. And for those who left England without a reason to return, Ross could see how this new land could offer promises for their future. But Ross had his promise in England. No matter the opportunities here, nothing was as desirable as Elizabeth.  
Transporting the wounded slowed their journey and the arrive at the fort late that night. Once theer, they were placed in the gaol. For the first time since the attack, Ross began to realize his future was as a prisoner of war instead of serving a noble cause with his company. How far had he come from his past Ross wonered.  
Capricious men might seek to elude their Fate. The bargain that had been struck as a way to evade his misdeeds had been circumvented. Instead of a judge and jury in Truro considering his crimes and determining his punishment, potential death, deportation, or imprisonment. Ross was now handed down imprisonment, thousands of miles from home, in a land where death hunted men for sport. Not one, but all three sentences had been delivered upon Ross in his attempt to outwit the law. What his father and uncle had devised was too sweet to succeed.  
Fleeing from the law drawing ever closer to catching him in some nefarious scheme of bringing in illegal goods or participating in wrecking, the idea of war seemed romantic. It would be but a quick expedition across the ocean to enforce the king's rule upon the revolutionaries. The skirmishes would be brief, few colonists wanted to break with the mother country. British troops were simply keeping the peace for the King's loyal colonists. At least that was the propaganda. And during the time Ross was away, Elizabeth would persuade her parents of their attachment and they would be swayed, allowing them to marry. After all a decorated war hero carried considerable sway Ross believed, then, so long ago that arrangement seemed now. However the reality of this war, there were far more rebellious colonists it seemed and the enemy was well equipped and familiar with a landscape as alien to Ross as the far lands where men and women were sent in transport for a number of crimes.  
The strategy to earn a commission for valor and deeds of daring while preserving the King's Law, returning with a clean slate, to marry Elizabeth was fading like his mother's roses left unattended in garden by her death. Never seeing Elizabeth again was by far the greater punishment within this sentence. Cruel Fates, was it Lachesis, casting his lots and manipulating his future, whom had so positioned him; and even now was Atropos poised to cut his thread and end what Clotho had spun.  
What transpired for him would have an impact on Elizabeth's life Ross also understood. Their arrangement was of youthful vigor, as Elizabeth was when Ross left those months ago. The plan was their time apart was to be short, months or a few years, but enough for her to reach her age of majority, him to return as an honorable member of the gentry, and they could then marry. An adventure, then viewed by each of them was as seasons to anneal their devotion. Instead this undetermined time would test their vow. Yet Ross was steadfast in his love for Elizabeth and knew hers must be as keen and fixed. For as beautiful as Elizabeth was, she must be as honorable. That belief sustained Ross.  
Morris was seen by the army surgeon who concurred that the amputation had been the only chance for survival. And, thus far no infection had affected it, so he might survive and eventually mend. Both Abbott and Adams were also healing. For Ross the surgeon cleaned his wound and tried to minimize the resulting scar. For Ross the only evidence was a gash along his cheek caused by a bullet, yet it was the butt of a rifle that had connected to the back of his head that continued to cause both pain and intermittent blurry vision. Something the surgeon said would improve with time.  
After a week at the fort, Ross with Adams, Abbott, and Morris was put aboard a ship and sent to a prison camp far from the Virginia Colony, to reduce the chance of escape and returning to serve in the British Army. Once there, as an officer Ross received what passed for preferential treatment. Still the conditions were far from comfortable. Any special treatment might be purchased with money, apparently the king's coin of the realm still passed for currency in the colonies. However, few things were worth purchasing, and Ross had very limited funds. He wrote home to his father, but had no idea even if the letter would make it back to England. The prisoners were kept busy, food had to be grown, even the very buildings, little more than barns needed to be reinforced and reconfigured to house men, not livestock. While the weather was good, life was reasonably comfortable, if limited. The prison camp was far from any town or village, several days walking at least, if one even knew the way. The forests were thick and roads nearly non existent. Ross wondered when he'd ever get out, it was possible he'd be here till the end of the war, but without access to any source other than the colonist jailers, he had no sense of how the war was going.  
As long as there was work to do, Ross had a focus during the day, at night he could remember Elizabeth. Within a month or so, reports of his capture would reach his father and he'd send word to Elizabeth. She would know he was alive, but the time facing them now, seemed to loom large without an sense of when it would be resolved.  
Time and again, Ross returned to those few heady months and the stolen time they had shared. Ross had discovered that Elizabeth came to town each week for music lessons and shopping with her mother. Ross now rode into town that day and managed to pass her as she went to her tutor’s. Often her mother left Elizabeth and ventured on her own to visit a friend. Waiting for Elizabeth to come out, Ross then managed to accompany her for a few minutes as they walked along the street. Initially, Ross spoke, she barely responded, shy and without any experience with men, at 15 her mother had not yet taken her out in society to meet eligible young men. Elizabeth was their only child and as such she would need to marry well, very well, though with her beauty and connections she would be a catch for any of the best families in the county. The plan was to introduce her when she turned 16, in a few months.  
Though their time shared was short, those minutes spent with Elizabeth completely enchanted Ross. Each week, he ensured nothing kept him from visiting Truro that day. Ross and Elizabeth spent a month stealing a few moments while she was in town and her mother was visiting friends. Finally, Ross suggested they meet out on the moor. At first Elizabeth was resistant, she had never gone out of the garden on her own, but his charms and smile soon had her giddy and willing to tempt fate. A pattern of meeting several times a week that summer began. Elizabeth informed her mother she needed fresh air and walking to build her constitution as practicing dancing winded her so. The first few times her mother accompanied her, Ross watched from a distance. But her mother soon tired of Elizabeth’s determination to walk so far, and remained home. Finally they could meet, be together, alone. Often roaming the moor and talking for an hour or more, never touching, they shared smiles, gossip, and idle chat about the weather or mining.  
Elizabeth had never known such attention from another other than her parents, but their focus seemed to be on producing a prize winning animal. Her diet, her dress, her social graces were tirelessly examined and modified by her mother. Elizabeth was educated at home, never went anywhere but her mother was present. Time with Ross was the greatest pleasure she had ever known. Though her parents could not afford to host a party and introduce her to society, there would be a ball a month after she turned 16. The plan was for Ross to also attend and they could see one another publicly. Surely, he could begin to visit her home after her coming out she imagined. While Elizabeth had no experience with men, Ross seemed to fulfill every longing she could imagine, handsome, kind, dashing, and attentive.  
Ross in turn had never known anyone like Elizabeth. Though in truth, his knowledge of women was limited, his cousin Verity, and other family members, a few of the village girls he saw as he passed by, though he paid but little attention to them. And the working woman he occasionally visited when he felt the need to relieve himself as a bull does when the cow is in heat. None of them compared to Elizabeth. For those few months, they formed an attachment, they talked of a future, nothing specific, but just that this would continue, they would meet, and they would have more time together. For now this sort of meeting was enough. This memory of Elizabeth and their future was what held Ross in the face of despair.


	2. Serving Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross experiences life in the POW camp, using memories while working for a local family

The sea and land journey to the prison camp was designed to ensure that even if escaping, the prisoners could not return to their company. From Virginia, Ross and his men were taken to a camp in New York, hundreds of miles from the coast. At the prison camp Ross held the highest rank from his battlefield promotion, going from Lieutenant to Captain by the death of his own officers and his command behavior, taking charge during the attack. Most men of rank were accorded better living conditions even in prison, taking rooms in inns, though at a cost. However Ross saw no reason to separate himself from his men. Morris was healing; he had survived the horror of the battlefield amputation, an obligation Ross still found repulsive that he had deprived the boy of his limb, creating a cripple for life. While service in the army would have been brutal, even that was taken from this man child. But, with the injury still so fresh, Morris was incapable of doing much, still learning to walk on his peg.  
Adams and Abbott had adjusted well to their imprisonment. All they had known from before the war was backbreaking work and now they returned to it. Growing food for the winter to feed themselves as well as converting the barn into quarters for living during the cold weather was top priority. Ross found this work far more satisfying than the raids he participated in as a solider. Too often Ross' service consisted of raiding the surrounding the countryside, destroying the homes, farms, and occasionally the residents who fell in defending their property or were captured, forced to watch their belongs set aflame by the enemy . This was not the war Ross expected, where the foe would be men trained as soldiers, each side fighting for their beliefs. Instead raids designed to terrorize and demoralize mostly women and children, were disgusting to Ross. In the camp, they were removed from that distasteful practice. The prison was far out from the nearest thing that passed a town. Here was little more than a village where the citizens from the surrounding area came to do business.   
By late summer Ross noted the passing of the time he'd been in the colonies for two years. Already the trees were turning, offering a rich palette of such a diversity of colors, many not often seen in Cornwall. Flame red, scarlet, amber, bronze, golds, yellows, oranges, even emerald greens from the many pines, dappled sunlight created a range of color. Beautiful in this land of war, not seen on the moor which ran more to purple, rust, greens, and varieties of gray. Ross realized, had he arrived in the colonies on a different quest and without Elizabeth waiting for him, he may well have found a place here. The colonies offered an opportunity for men to make their fortunes, the fertile land, the great expanse of virgin forests, and the lack of enforced and destroying poverty created by the few to control the masses at any cost made this land attractive. Mayhap this is what the colonist were fighting for, an equality born of accomplishment, not inherited upon birth. But the call of that phantom who stalked his dreams would not permit Ross to give up that past and what he still desired for his future, Elizabeth. Thought the prospect to abandon his King and country to serve in the Continental Army was an opportunity offered to all captured soldiers, it would mean never returning to Cornwall. But the far greater loss was never seeing and building a life with Elizabeth, she would be lost to him forever. Ross could never renounce Elizabeth for something so ephemeral as freedom. There was life with Elizabeth, rich with the potential of love, passion, and a future, but without her a hollow imitation of life, dull, muted, and destitute.   
In early August, the commander requested Ross attend him in the barracks with Abbott and Adams. Ross, by his rank frequently spoke with and soon came to admire the man. Too old and in poor health, he was unable to serve in active duty, but was passionate about the colonists breaking with England. Still he was honorable and accorded Ross respect for his rank. The two soon began a courteous relationship. In discussions, Ross learned what had inspired the revolutionaries to challenge the rule of England over them. Ross realized he was serving in a conflict not at all as it had been offered.   
When Ross and his men arrived at his office, the commander, Captain Williams explained, with so many men from the community away at war, women and children on the farms needed hands to help with the harvest and other farm chores. A Mistress Tyler had requested to meet some of the British soldiers the Captain would trust to work on her farm.   
With that, a knock on the door, a young woman, Ross thought she was about the age of his mother when she died, at thirty, entered the room. The children ranged from 17 to a babe in arms. As the family filled in, Ross rose and bowed his head, as a child of Grace’s raised a gentleman, and as an officer, Ross knew his manners. When Abbott and Adams remained seated, Ross commanded; On your feet, a lady has entered the room. The men rose as ordered.   
“There, this is the man and his men for your farm. I trust him.” Captain Williams, a man of few words, said to the woman.  
Mistress Tyler tried to smile, and stammered a bit, before turning to Captain Williams and saying; "Thank you father." Then she turned to Ross, asked his name and if he and his men were willing to work on her farm.  
The opportunity to have real work, do something to keep his body fit and mind occupied was welcome relief to Ross. And that Captain Williams trusted him to do so with his family was a compliment of respect. He looked at Abbott and Adams quickly; then answered: “Yes mam.”  
With that Capitan Williams told them to go with her today. They would be escorted to the farm some 5 miles away, do a day’s work under the watch of a guard, then brought back tonight.  
They all filed out of the barracks and began the walk to the farm. Ross realized except for entering the prison, this was his first time outside the fences. The woman led, carrying the babe and her children followed behind her, each one holding the hand of another. The oldest three were girls, the youngest boys. Ross noticed, the youngest girl about twelve would turn and stare at him, while none of the others had any interest in or were afraid of the men and avoided looking at them.  
Reaching the farm, Ross asked what needed attention first. Mistress Tyler, said the fences were needing mending, the livestock was getting out. Ross conducted a survey, identified what needed repair and what tools needed. As this could be done by Adams and Abbott, he then asked for other work. A field needed to be turned over and manured. Ross took the mule out and began plowing. Several hours later, the three girls came out with lunch. He asked their names, the youngest girl spoke up and told him. She was Anna, her oldest sister Rebecca, and the other Judith. Ross smiled at this little girl, so open and quick, without any hesitation in speaking. The elder two, smiled shyly and turned to leave, but the youngest remained behind, even when called by their sisters. Anna followed him behind the plow, breaking the clods. She was a natural chatterbox and began to share with him, how she did this with her father when he was home; he’d planted this years’ crops and then gone to war, she thought somewhere in Pennsylvania, but it had been some time since their mother had a letter. With her open and friendly way, Ross soon knew almost everything about the family. Anna in turned asked so many questions about Ross, where he'd lived, what it was like in Cornwall, was he married. Ross had never had anyone so interested in his life story. Anna was bright and in many ways wise above the years of a young girl. Though a decade of life separated them, quickly she determined that Ross was hers. With Anna in attendance, the day passed quickly. That evening, as they left for the prison, Anna ran to catch him and gave him a slice of pie.   
The days progressed like this, early each morning Ross, with Abbott and Adams walked to the farm. Their days were filled with making repairs or preparing fields for the next spring. Slowly Ross and his men were accorded greater trust. After a few days, they were invited to the porch to eat their midday meal, a few days later Anna insisted Ross and the men join the family at their table. As they shared meals Ross learned of the Rebecca's plans to marry when her intended returned from the war. This reminded him of himself and Elizabeth. Rebecca spoke with such devotion to her John, how they'd only met a few months before he left for battle. John lived over 20 miles away, and came to the camp to train after joining the army. Rebecca was staying with Captain Williams and his wife, who had been dying from a cancer. While at the camp she met John. At first he would follow her as she walked across the camp, but finally mustered the nerve to speak with her. Rebecca was too shy to do more than answer a few questions. Gradually they begin to meet in the evening after she put her grandmother to bed and he had finished his duties. Rebecca would slip out and they'd walk around the fields and talk. This attachment inspired Ross, seeing it as a mirror of his own story with Elizabeth. The difference though was before John went to serve they approached Rebecca's father Edward and asked for permission to marry. Their attachment was approved, only the request to wait until John returned. The concern was should John be killed in battle, so as not to leave Rebecca a widow, possibly with a child. To fulfill their pledge now only required John to return. As Captain Williams had no other children, they would move in and live with him so Rebecca would be near her family.   
That night prompted by Rebecca's story Ross needed the memory of Elizabeth. Using sympathetic magic worked by the witches of old, Ross summoning her to enter his dreams, commanding his thoughts to transcend the space between them and arouse Elizabeth to remember Ross and their love. At night, just before sleep Ross recalled his attentions to Elizabeth, remembering as they roamed the moors together, often she would sit in front of him, encircled by his arms, and they would ride to the carins. Once there, they were alone, few came to these reminders of heathen days, rather fearing the creatures of old who had inhabited these paces. Playful games of chase, or walking between the stones. Though Ross longed to take her in his arms, then and even in his dreams he held his memory of Elizabeth as sacred, she was a lady and he a gentleman.   
Remembering when Elizabeth finally attended the ball and was brought out into society. For days before the ball they were unable to meet, her mother constantly changing something about the dress, trying other hair styles, coaching and practicing her conversations she might have with the men she would meet. Wasted time, Ross thought, he knew Elizabeth as she was, she needed no added embellishment. Elizabeth's beauty, grace, and kindness shone for Ross. The plans Mrs. Chynoweth had for Elizabeth disgusted Ross. Her ambition was to effectively sell Elizabeth to the highest bidder. Grooming her as you would a prized horse for market day. Elizabeth's mother saw her daughter as only a commodity to be purchased by the highest bidder.   
Though in truth, Ross for the first time experienced the torment of jealousy. What if the young men who were introduced to Elizabeth pleased her more than he did? That thought haunted him, worrying as the spriggans who came and stole the babes. Those evil creatures are how Ross imagined other suitors, creeping in the night to steal Elizabeth and carry her off to live with them. And with her beauty, others, richer with more to offer Elizabeth might seduce her away from him. Ross knew his love for Elizabeth was true, but realized she was young and inexperienced, and feared her desire for him might have been only an infatuation.   
As Ross now reflected on the reality of this separation, their plans seemed little more than fragile spider webs spun between ephemeral stalks of desiccated wheat, their dreams as light as feathers buffeted on the stormy winds of providence. Still lack of experience was also a hallmark for Ross, like a new born babe, needing and craving something, but without any control over himself. No other had ever turned his head, possessed him body and soul.   
Those few days before the ball, they were unable to meet. Ross fretted, often riding past her home a number of times each day, hoping to find Elizabeth in the garden, waiting for him, that she could escape even for a few minutes, but she was not waiting for him. Knowing she was just out of sight, beyond those walls, yet out of reach pained Ross. His physical desire for Elizabeth was palpable.   
Finally Ross decided, immediately after the ball he would approach her father, declare his intention to marry her. Ross could bring an ancient name and as the only son he was the heir to Nampara, the mines, and land. Ross was willing to do whatever was necessary to win Elizabeth as his wife. Surely her desire for him would sway her father to agree to the marriage. Ross rationalized, while he had little to offer her parents, his love for her, and hers for him should be enough.  
The night of the ball, Ross arrived early, he wanted to see Elizabeth arrive and approach her for the first dance. As Elizabeth entered, her mother and father were in attendance. Seeing her, Ross was once again smitten. Ross walked towards her to ask for the first dance. However, Mrs. Chynoweth, seeing him approach quickly guided Elizabeth away into a room and began to introduce her to selected young men. Unable to politely intercept her, Ross waited. Soon though Elizabeth was dancing with first one, then another, and another man. As soon as one dance ended, another young man was waiting at her side. Infuriated, Ross moved to approach her and at the end of the next dance he took position opposite her. Another man approached, but the menacing look from Ross and he retreated. During the dance conversation was limited, but at least Ross was with her. Too soon that dance ended and another man approached Elizabeth. Ross had no recourse but to bow and step aside. The night progressed, much the same, one man after another approached and danced with Elizabeth. Eventually Mrs. Chynoweth left the room for some refreshment giving Ross an opportunity to step in. As soon as the music began he took her hand and pulled her out to the vestibule. Guiding Elizabeth to a corner, Ross wished to take her outside, put her on a horse and ride away with her. Ross knew he only had a few moments before her mother came looking for her. There was little to say, but just standing near to one another was a joy, until Mrs. Chynoweth appeared. She demanded that Elizabeth return with her and told Ross he no longer was permitted to dance with her tonight, he would, she hoped, behave as a gentleman, she did want the embarrassment of having him removed. With that, Mrs. Chynoweth took Elizabeth's arm and pulled her away. Compliant as always, Elizabeth accepted her mother's demand, listening as Mrs. Chynoweth explained, rather loudly, he was unacceptable as a suitor due to his father's and his own illegal doings, and his distinct lack of wealth. As Elizabeth was guided to the ballroom she glanced silently at Ross, hey eyes pleading for his understanding, what choice did she have. The rest of the evening was agony for Ross, unable to approach Elizabeth and watching her attended by so many men, not all were young, a good number were older, even widowers, and some as old as her father. The spectacle disgusted Ross. All the men fawning over her, but worse, Elizabeth always polite and obedient was pleasant and gave no outward sign she was in love with another. Mrs. Chynoweth kept a close watch on both of them, when Elizabeth was free, her mother was in attendance immediately and she continued to make malicious comments regarding the unsuitability of some men, little more than rakes and libertines seeking to seduce young and impressionable ladies, saved only by the wisdom of their parents. Her mother continued marketing Elizabeth, reciting her qualities to anyone who would listen, like a peddler hawking his wares to the buyers. As Elizabeth was introduced to each, Mrs. Chynoweth expounded on her beauty and their status as a connection with the right family.   
At the end of the ball, Ross could only watch Elizabeth leave in the company of her parents.   
Angry and full of rage, Ross needed to somehow eviscerate his emotions. Ross went to the inn and took lodgings for the night. Before going up to his room, Ross sat and drank, soon one bottle was emptied and another was delivered to his table. Furious at Elizabeth's mother, railing at his lack of fortune, and disgusted at the chance she might be taken by another, Ross sought oblivion in what the liquor could provide. As he drank, a young woman approached and sat beside him. Pretty, she asked questions Ross could or would not answer, but she was not dissuaded. Taking his hand, the hand that should have escorted Elizabeth through every dance, stroking his palm, clasping her fingers around it, she leaned and whispered; "What could she offer him that would ease his pain?"   
For a moment Ross recoiled, but the raw desire he felt, the need to hold a woman, to join with her overpowered his love for Elizabeth in the moment. She took the bottle, his glass, and suggested they go to his room and talk without prying ears to listen to his tale of woe. Following her up the stairs, Ross wanted to be two people, the one good enough for Elizabeth, sitting with her, and another who could release his passion, take a woman and satisfy his desire.   
In his room, the woman guided him to the bed. Suddenly Ross felt he was gone astray and he allowed her to removed his jacket, shirt, and boots. She handed him a drink, the whole time she just looked in his eyes, no words, this was not about talking it was about joining. Watching, the woman slip her dress down and expose her breasts. The nature of the man responded, Ross was upon them, greedily suckling like a starving babe. Once Ross began he was unable to stop himself. Longings and desires he'd had for months without any recourse but to deny himself with the promise of soon. Yet that expectation was now dashed. Beyond anger, beyond fear, beyond pain, these feelings were driving him mad. A greater need rose in Ross, a necessity for someone to relieve his physical desires.   
Her hands moved down to his shoulders and she began to kneed them, then suddenly she sank to the floor and kissed him. Gentle, soft, feathery lips on his, with his eyes closed, Ross could pretend. Moving her lips further down his chest, she stopped at his nipples and gave each a gentle suck. Her hands had deftly reached his crotch and was pulling at the buttons on his breeches. Ross allowed her to do all the work, in the moment he just craved to be desired and satisfied. She stood, and wiggled her dress to the floor, naked under it, she pushed him down on the bed, and made quick work of removing his breeches, freeing him, exposing his hard large cock.   
She then joined him on the bed and stretched her naked body against his. The warmth of silky skin, and the way her whole body slid against him was electrifying. Ross ached to fill her, and pulled her on top of him. If he kept his eyes shut, he could almost believe he was with Elizabeth. As the woman freed his cock and joined him on the bed, lust and the need to take a woman stimulated him. Ross needed to feel a woman, to enter her, to move his cock in her until that friction brought a release and relief.   
He needed to impale her totally, to have his cock entirely inside her sheath. As he felt the warm wet walls surround his cock, Ross moaned. Sitting astride him, he felt her grind against his groin, taking him deeper into her sheath. Ross felt has if his cock was being gripped, something tightening on it then a partial release. She leaned back extending his cock till he couldn't bear the pressure and pulled her upright. She spread her legs more and bore down. The ache within Ross became pain, and suddenly he felt his sack pulse and then the seed rush from his cock into her, and glorious relief wracked him. Wave after wave, Ross wondered if this pleasure would end. As he emptied his seed, the woman moaned and sighed. Too soon, the pulsing finished and Ross was soft and flaccid. His cock still inside her as she seemed to grip and hold him fixed within her sheath. She smiled at him as she slid off allowing his cock to leave her and spoke in a soft whisper against his ear; "My Lord, such an honor to be taken by a man of such passion."   
The torment Ross felt at betraying Elizabeth was augmented by the pleasure he experienced with this woman. This failing reinforced the necessity of arranging a marriage soon.   
That night, back at the barracks Ross remembered how the night of the ball set into motion what had become his current circumstances. All for the love of a woman he was barred from marrying had brought him across an ocean, serving in a war he no long was convinced was noble, and now was held as a prisoner until the war ended. Yet for all that had occurred Ross still loved and craved Elizabeth. Distance and circumstances had not diminished his love for her.


	3. Capture and Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time as a prisoner of war for Ross and his men.

After a few lunches with the family, the oldest boy joined his sister and worked with Ross in the field or barn. Mary seemed to relax and grew accustomed to them. Even the older two sisters became comfortable with Ross and often Anna walked out to meet him each day and sometimes escorted him part of the way back to the prison. Several of the children would sometimes join her, but Anna was constant in her attachment to Ross.   
As there was no reasonable place to escape to, soon Ross, Adams, Abbott, and Morris moved to live at the farm. A rhythm began, rising early, working in the fields or other chores kept them busy. Eventually Morris even with his limited mobility was able to work at a number of everyday jobs around the farm, displaying a talent for repairing broken items. At the harvest everyone, all the children and Mary came out to the fields to work, the youngest two boys being left with Morris who drove the wagon as the crops were harvested. During good weather, Ross and the men bedded in the barn. The older siblings stayed late into the night listen to their stories and often Anna fell asleep. Ross always carried her back to the house and put her to bed.   
Once the harvesting finished, it came time to slaughter selected animals for the coming winter. Ross and the men provided the expertise in culling and butchering the few animals selected. A routine as old as time settled on all of them. To the unknowing, this was a family, perhaps a man and wife, their children, with extended family members living with them. As colder weather arrived, the men were allocated a room off the kitchen, used for storage, it was cleared and they moved in.   
Ross would periodically take Abbott and Adams back to town for a few days, but this comfortable existence became his home in the colonies. Simple tasks of chopping wood, repairing or building items for the farm gave Ross a sense of normalcy. Ross took the oldest boy and taught him about repairing tools, and how to check the livestock, but it was Anna who continued to attend him constantly and seem the better at learning.  
Working so closely with Mary, Ross compared her to his mother. Both were strong women, wise, and able to adapt to whatever life delivered to them. Grace had been from the gentry, yet she married a man with very little promise, a iniquitous past, and fourteen years her senior. Her parents had not been in favor of the marriage, but Grace was a strong willed and determined woman. Once she made a decision, few could change her and her parents finally agreed to the marriage, and to their and many others in the area, it was successful. In spite of Grace's raised as a lady, she managed Nampara with just a few servants, often working alongside them, yet could still produce the finest needle work or play the spinet, and ensured Joshua remained inside the law, even if only just barely within. Together Grace and Joshua shared an unbreakable bond, a love, and produced two sons. That was the future Ross wanted with Elizabeth. Yet Ross knew Elizabeth would struggle to adapt. Their brief time together had shown Ross how inexperienced and naive Elizabeth was. She knew nothing about mining or farming, but listened intently to Ross. Her days were spent playing music, needle work, reading, learning the latest dances. Even the basics of managing a household were never performed by Elizabeth. She was certain, as her mother ensured her, others would be responsible for running her future household.   
Ross worried this sort of life might present a challenge for Elizabeth, but was willing to hire servants to assist her as she became mistress of their home. In contrast, Mary had prepared her daughters for the role of managing their own home, equally comfortable in the house, field, or barn.  
As each day slipped away, Ross recognized the time spent with the children while working on the farm was near idyllic and yet, always on his mind, and aching for what was lacking, Elizabeth. The separation had in no way diminished Ross' love for her, if anything his desire for Elizabeth had intensified. And Ross wanted this life for himself and Elizabeth, hoping once they were married she would grow into being mistress of a small manor. Ross was determined he would return to her. And they would then begin their life together, it was just the time it would take for the war to end and him to journey back to Cornwall that separated them. Surely Elizabeth by now knew what had happened, and though she would be worried, she would know that Ross would return to her and she would wait for him.   
Imagining what Elizabeth was doing, how she spent her days, sewing, practicing her music, the sort of life that ensured that beauty did not fade. Ross saw how once, Mary had been young and beautiful like Elizabeth. But, five children in little more than a dozen years had taken a toll on her. The oldest girl, Rebecca, her mother had died during childbirth and her father married Mary when his daughter was barely one. Ross wondered, had Edward truly loved his first wife? To marry so soon after her death, Ross could not imagine, even the very thought of Elizabeth dying was a fear not yet imagined till now. The hard work of a farm had aged Mary. She rose early, worked till late each day, going into the fields or barn as much as in the house. To Rebecca, much of the housework was given over to and she was becoming the model of her mother. Ross shuddered to think of Elizabeth becoming like her mother, Mrs. Chynoweth.   
Ross noticed how much genuine affection the eldest daughter and stepmother had for each. Mary had once said to Ross, she fell in love with Rebecca first, but the love for Edward though always there, took time for her to realize it. Judith always the shyest often found ways to busy herself alone, searching for mushrooms or berries in the woods. However, Ross noticed an attachment forming between Judith and Morris. This worried him, as eventually the war would end, and Morris would be expected to return home. But as a cripple he would also be discharged and could decide then what to do Still, Ross knew many unattached men, when given the chance deserted their company and joined the colonists. As long as the situation was still prisoners working within the custom, nothing was amiss. And, once the war was ended, Morris could choose his future and Ross felt sure he would take the opportunity to stay.   
Finally deep winter settled, snow and ice brought a new look to the landscape, one Ross had rarely seen in Cornwall. On the farm, much of the hard work managing the livestock, and other heavy work was handled by Ross and the men. Getting to and from the farm in such weather was at times impossible. Yet Ross made it a point to go to the village to at least once a week. While there Ross as Captain oversaw the British prisoners and their work assignments. Back at the farm, the work though hard and physical was more rewarding, he could see the accomplishments as they occurred. The hard labor kept Ross and his men fit and occupied. This work reinforced for Ross what he had to look forward to upon returning to Cornwall, a home, a wife, and eventually children. Ross and Mary discussed ways to improve the management of the farm. A plan for digging a channel diverting, some of the water to feed directly to the barn as soon as the earth thawed, what repairs to the house would be needed, and sorting seeds for the vegetable garden.   
A major storm moved in and prevented Ross from going to the village for several days. Finally as the weather improved, Ross with Abbott and Adams walked to the fort and spent the night. Finishing his responsibilities for the prisoners, Ross returned to the farm, but left Abbott and Adams at the fort for a few days. Upon reaching the farm, Ross found Mary concerned about Rebecca. She had gone out early that morning and discovered some of the goats had escaped and had gone to look for them, and it was now several hours gone. Ross immediately went to search for her. Following the trail for several miles, Ross discovered Rebecca, she had been beaten and left in the woods. Broken bones, bruises, and blood everywhere, Ross carried her back to the house. The beating was bad, she was barely conscious, but managed to tell of how a man had attacked her, but she had fought him. Ross understood what she meant. Rebecca described him one of the Hessian's from the prison, she recognized him from her visits there. From her description, Ross knew immediately which one. Konrad, a large lout, mean, always using his size and power to intimidate or beat others to take their money or other possessions. He had been recently brought to the prison, no others from his regiment had accompanied him. Ross suspected he had deserted and been captured. Konrad showed no interest in the his fellow prisoners, and yet did not offer to take up arms with the colonist. He seemed content to laze about and do very little, refusing to work with the other prisoners in the area. Rather, he spent most of his time drinking and gambling. When at the fort, Ross had frequently broken up brawls begun by him. Only his command status prevented the man from attacking Ross. But this attack on an innocent young woman went beyond men bored and determining status in the oddly created society of imprisonment. Enraged at what horror this man had inflicted on Rebecca, Ross went to find the him. Returning to the prison, Ross informed Captain Williams. However, the Hessian wasn't there and had been missing for a few days, a typical behavior for him, to go off for several days, yet he always returned.   
Ross sent Adams and Abbot to the farm to protect the family and set off to track the Hessian. By evening Ross still hadn't found him and returned to the farm. Rebecca had been unconscious for hours. As all doctors were serving in the war, none remained in the surrounding communities. Mary did all she knew to do, however Rebecca's injuries were extensive and during the night she died. Mary and the children were grief-stricken. Anna sought Ross and clung to him. Ross had not experienced pain like this since his mother died. The horror of what had happened to Rebecca, another casualty of the war, sent Ross into a rage. A young life taken senselessly, not from an accident or even disease, though unfair, common, and suffered by those who lived on. But Rebecca's death came from the cruel and meaningless beating she experienced. A strange twist of fate conspired to take a young woman, one who should have run to meet the man she loved upon his return, now had gone into the arms of death. That vision, Rebecca running to meet John, now never to occur devastated Ross. It was a vision he'd had so often of Elizabeth, when she discovered he lived, she would run to him. How would the man who loved Rebecca, planned to marry, ever endure the loss of his love. Ross was unable to stop that terror becoming his, of losing the woman you love, gripping him with an irrational fear. Knowing the pain Rebecca endured, fueled Ross' fury. Holding Anna as she sobbed for her sister during the night brought little comfort to Ross. As he grieved, Ross felt responsible, had he been at the farm that day, it would have been him searching for the goats, no harm would have come to Rebecca, she would have been safe, and alive. The obligation to find and seek revenge on the Hessian dominated Ross; he needed to find the man and deliver to him what he'd brought to the girl.   
At daylight Ross took the musket from the mantel and went out to hunt him. Several hours later Ross found the man hiding in he woods, near the farm, watching the house. Ross supposed his intention had been to simply capture the man and return him to the prison, knowing he would hang for the crime, of that he was sure. However, the anger and pain at the death of this young girl overtook Ross. The pain she suffered, the fear, and ultimately her death was more than Ross could endure. When the man attempted to run Ross shot him. The ball entered the man's shoulder, and he dropped to the ground, but did not die instantly. Instead of trying to keep him alive Ross sat and watched him for several hours as he slowly died. Yet even that eye for an eye failed to return Rebecca, or ease his agony. But the man would never again hurt another. As a solider, Ross was aware he had killed other men, but never had it been like this. Those encounters had been carefully architected, designed to determine which side had the nobler cause. Each man understood the risk and responsibilities of being a solider. Death was a constant marching companion, serving and waiting to be served the next willing victim. Those deaths, while by Ross' hands were for the greater good and his bullets only found their prey if duly earned. And yet the rage that consumed him was not tempered with this act. Leaving the body in the woods, Ross returned to the farm. There he shared with Mary what he had done. Ross sent Morris in the wagon to fetch the local vicar and inform Captain Williams of Rebecca's death. Ross dug the grave beside her mother's in the little family cemetery to receive Rebecca's body, while Abbott and Adams built her coffin.   
When Captain Williams and several of his men arrived, Ross took him to the body of Konrad. The captain, told his men to leave the man where he died. This brute would receive no rites nor any mark that he had lived and his death did not require memory of others. Let the animals destroy what remained. When they returned to the farm, Rebecca was laid in the coffin. As each member of the family said goodbye, Anna placed a bouquet of Comfrey, Oak leaves, dried Poppy heads, Crowsfoot, Holly and Willow branches tied with Ivy and held in a cone of Birch bark she had made in her sister's hands. Looking at the bouquet reminded Ross of his mother, how she had filled their home with tokens of nature. Ross now saw these as tiny acts of love. And though Grace had tried to teach him the meaning and use of many, he consider that women's work. But Ross realized, some small memories of those times spent with his mother as she worked her garden remained, these were plants for the dead, to ease their journey. Still a child, Anna was far beyond her years in learning and understanding. Ross saw embodied in Anna all that was good in life, what it meant to love, care, and take pleasure in the smallest of experiences. The way Anna viewed life gave him hope.  
For several weeks after the interment, the weather turned bitter cold, with snow, ice, and winds that descended on the world to haunt the inhabitants and deny them of any warmth, light, and life. The men ventured out only to care for the animals, fetch water, and firewood. Most of their time was spent near the hearth, making small repairs, reading, and learning to live without Rebecca. When the weather finally lifted, Ross with Adams and Abbott walked back to the fort. Captain Williams, drew Ross aside and spoke, how some of the other prisoners felt Ross should be brought before the tribunal for killing the Hessian. He believed it was a mark of jealousy and the hope for a promotion if Ross was removed as the Captain of the British soldiers. He could delay this for a time, but felt the best course was for Ross to leave. At first Ross didn't understand what the Captain meant by leaving. But, Captain Williams explained how he knew of other soldiers who simply walked away from their work assignments and were never seen or heard from again. Typically they were reported as dead if not found within a few days. No one wanted the thought of the enemy roaming the countryside. But, he was sure some made it back to a regiment and resumed their service. Obviously, none of their story while in a prison camp would go with them. A clean break, they were captured, held, and escaped, as any loyal solider should. There was a road out of the village, easy to circle to from the farm, and from there walk towards the coast, though it might take a couple of months traveling. With a little money, a person could probably buy his way along, reach a city sympathetic to or held by the British, and thus return to freedom. Captain Williams reckoned the best time to take to the road was the week of the full moon, two weeks hence. Someone traveling alone would be less noticeable as a stranger moving through village if necessary, and by night, less chance of encounters with locals. A map on his desk, had the main towns and villages marked and noted which were friendly to the British. Knowing how Captain Poldark enjoyed learning about the local area, perhaps he would like a copy of the map. Anyone who reached New York, would have opportunities to find sympathetic colonist or other British in that city or a ship home. Captain Williams handed Ross a pouch with his pay allotment received from the British paymaster. He had taken the liberty to write a recommendation on the conduct and command of Captain Poldark while serving his time and placed that in Ross' pocket. Captain Williams shook his hand and thanked him for his service to his family and his command of the soldiers in the prison. With that the old man said he was going to his home for the rest of the day, please give his regards to his daughter and grandchildren, weather permitting he would come out in a few weeks to check on them.   
Captain Williams left the office. For a moment Ross could hardly comprehend what the old man had suggested. A stanch supporter of the revolution, he was encouraging Ross to walk away and return to the British army. He looked at the map, rolled it up, then returned to the farm. Unsure if he should mention it to Mary, Ross considered what it would mean if he stayed, a possible trial, judged by Colonist who would have little appreciation for him or chancing to make it back to British held territory. Ross would have his rank, and with his injury he might be sent back to Cornwall, home, and Elizabeth. Yet abandoning his men was not something Ross considered lightly. Had it been only himself, or even with Abbott, Adams, and a healthy Morris, Ross would have tried to escape imprisonment long before this. But Ross would not have abandoned Morris, and with his amputation, he would have slowed them and been very easy to identify. So Ross had done the honorable thing and accepted his imprisonment. But, now the series of events meant he had to leave. Over the next couple of days Ross put a portion of his food aside. However, Anna, observant and perceptive as ever asked him to walk her to Rebecca's grave to leave a token. Once there, Anna held his hand and told him how much she would miss him when he returned to Cornwall, but she knew he had to return home. She knew he missed the great lady he was to marry and that she must be missing him as much. But he didn't need to hide his food. She had looked through the stores of cheese, meats, and grains and found items that would travel well. And she had asked her mother to teach her how to bake bread, so on Monday there would be extra loaves, freshly made. The insight of this child never ceased to amaze him. Ross knew she often watched him, and they had a game when he caught her, he would stick out his tongue at her, her payment, she had to collect the eggs the next day. However, her ability to anticipate him meant he rarely caught her. In discussing with this child his plans, she suggested Ross take the intended route several times for a few miles, mark it to follow as he traveled by night. Going out together, as they reached the stream that ran from the property into the woods, Ross realized if they used dogs to track him, walking in the stream would break his scent. Anna also suggested he walk in a number of circles and in his opposite intended direction, to also confuse the scent. Together, Ross and Anna walked in the opposite direction along the stream bank for a few miles. However, Anna also suggested that Ross plan if he had stop along the way, to identify the best places to hide himself.   
The next few days, Ross took each of the men aside and shared his plan to leave. Morris he knew would stay, the attachment to Judith was too strong, and he had no reason to return. Ross explained he should remain a British solider, a prisoner of war until the hostilities ended, then declare his intention to remain. Both Adams and Abbott discussed if they should go with him or stay. It was decided they would stay. Should men be sent after Ross, Adams and Abbott could possibly provide some misinformation on his intended route. Both men were also considering remaining in the colonies at the end of the war. This land offered them opportunities they would not have in England. So it was determined Ross would go alone. He would leave a few days before the next full moon. Traveling mostly at night, this would provide the light for moving through heavy forest. Over the next few days Ross spent time with each child and gave each something recall him. He accompanied Judith as she searched the barn for eggs. Knowing how she loved to create things, Ross gave her buttons. For the oldest boy, Edward, named after his father, Ross gave him his powder horn, the younger boy, Robert, named after Mary's father, Ross gave him his cartridge box. For the babe, Charles, Ross knew he'd not be remembered, but left him a pot to play with. For Anna who loved to learn and read, Ross had a small book that had been Graces', and he gave it to her. But, Anna refused to accept it, knowing it was his mothers, it was too precious to him she said. Instead she asked him to carve his name on a tree for her, so she could see it every day and remember him. The day before Ross left together they found a tree and he carved his name and hers. That night they all stayed up late talking. Each one of the children fell asleep, but the last was Anna whom Ross carried to her bed. Early Monday, Mary packed a large sack full of food for Ross. Anna had told her of Ross' plan so she wouldn't worry when he left. To Mary, Ross gave the book and asked that she hold it for Anna till she was grown and then offer it to her.  
Late afternoon Ross was ready to go, he said his good-byes and went out. Anna held his hand and walked him to the end of the field and watched till he disappeared into the woods. Anna walked back to the house, went and got one of her father's shirts, if anyone wanted a scent to track Ross, she would offer it and figured this would throw the dogs off for a while at least. Then Anna took one of Ross' shirts she had pilfered from his pack and placed it under pillow.   
That day, Captain Williams sent a letter off to the British army base advising of the death of a prisoner, a Captain Ross Vennor Poldark.


End file.
